


Growl For Growl And Bite For Bite

by nerbert



Series: The Strength Of The Wolf Is The Pack [2]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M, Magical Realism, Misunderstandings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-07 16:02:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13438287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerbert/pseuds/nerbert
Summary: There’s just something off about Jake Guentzel, and it starts with the way he smells.





	1. Chapter 1

Coming back to his second year in the NHL still feels like a dream to Conor. Coming back after winning the cup is something else entirely. He spends his summer letting it all sink in, but once he’s back in Pittsburgh, once he’s back with the team it hits him all anew. He’s back with his unlikely pack and he can’t wait to get started.

 

It’s especially gratifying when everyone else looks just as excited to see him. There’s the warm buzz at the back of Conor’s head that must be the pack bond snapping into the place after the summer. From the way it pulses, he guesses the other guys must be feeling it too.

 

It’s a tough start without Sid, but while he’s out they do their best to win for him. Sometimes Conor will find himself on the bench for home games and he’ll turn to his right expecting to find Sid chatting away between shifts. It’s a phantom feeling through the pack bond, and while he can’t hear Sid’s voice in his head during games, he can sometimes feel Sid is up in the player’s box watching. By the time he’s back on the ice, it’s like he’s never left.

 

They win more games than they lose, and that should be enough for anyone to be happy, but by the time November is coming to an end, Conor begins to feel off. He hates to speculate like this, but he feels it has something to do with the latest rookie.

 

Everyone loves Jake. It’s hard not to when the guy scored two goals on his first two shots. Geno and Phil take a shine to him right from the first game he plays with them, and it’s no secret Sully is impressed. Even if it wasn’t for his skills on the ice, there’s a boyish charm about him that makes him so damn likeable. He’s a good presence in the locker room even though he’s quiet. He said something funny enough to Phil the other day that Conor felt out of breath watching him laugh so hard. So yes, everyone loves Jake aside from Conor.

 

He knows it’s not about jealousy. He’s happy about his place in the locker room and he’d never take it for granted. There’s just something off about Jake Guentzel, and it starts with the way he smells. At first Conor brushed it off as nothing out of the ordinary. With the rest of his pack smelling so familiar, a new scent in the mix standing out to him doesn’t seem so strange. Then, after games and practices when sweat made everyone smell stronger, Conor slowly noticed something was very wrong.

 

The other new guys on the team didn’t smell strange at all, and he couldn’t deny what his senses were telling him. Jake smelt like the cold in a way no human Conor had met could smell. It cut through the musky warm locker room like a knife. He tried to tell himself s _o what_. People smell different and it wasn’t worth making trouble just because the hairs on the back of his neck stood up every time he walked pass. The next day Jake walked in smelling like something completely different. If Conor didn’t know better he’d say he smelt of blood. The coppery tang stuck to his sinuses like a warning sign and Conor couldn’t keep this to himself anymore.

 

He went on his instincts and sought out the voice of reason: goalies. He knew that Sid was always eager to help him with wolf problems, but Sid was too involved in the locker room dynamic. If he said something to him he would want to try and address it, and that might involve confronting Jake and Conor didn’t want that just yet. Matt was a good listener and going to him meant that even if he didn’t get any good advice out of it, an excuse to visit his bear of a dog Beckham would be worth it. Dogs naturally gravitated to Conor. He had two Pomeranians of his own to keep him company, and in many ways, they were his tiniest pack members. He brought them over to Matt’s place so they could play with his own rapidly growing puppy.

 

“What’s up man?” Matt asked, handing Conor a beer. He sighed for a moment and wondered where to begin.

 

“What do you think of Guentz?”

 

“He’s a cool guy. Why?”

 

“It’s nothing.” Conor mentally back pedalled. What was he doing, talking about a team mate behind his back like this?

 

“Come on.”

 

“He’s just.” It felt so wrong to say it out aloud. “Have you noticed anything strange?”

 

To his credit, Matt gives it a moment of thought before he answers with a firm no.

 

“But like, what are your wolfy senses telling you?” Matt watches him with a careful expression. Conor took a long drink before speaking.

 

“He smells off. This sounds so fucking dumb everyone else loves the guy, but I can’t ignore what my body is telling me.”

 

“Is it serious? Should you tell Sid?”

 

“I don’t want him to try to mediate things or whatever.”

 

“Ha, or he might be good at just keeping an eye out on things. He seems to know this wolf stuff pretty well.”

 

“Yeah, he read of book on it over the summer. He probably knows more about being a werewolf than me. He’d probably be a really good Alpha or whatever it’s called.” Conor and Sid talked a little off and on during the Summer about what this pack bond meant, specifically about the implication that Sid as the leader. He didn’t really know how to feel about the term ‘alpha’, and according to what he’d read it was a mostly outdated method of internal hierarchy anyway. Modern werewolves, whatever that meant, were closer in design to family groups than structured power dynamics. One analogy he read described a pack like a sports team, which just felt a little too on the nose to laugh at.

 

Matt tries a few more times to convince Conor, but he’s just too stubborn about it.

 

“Fine, I’ll keep an eye on Guentzy but if anything weird happens, we tell Sid. Deal?”

 

Conor agrees, and wonders how long it will take long for him to regret it.

 

__

 

It’s not like Conor doesn’t have other things to worry about. He’s still a werewolf trying to hide this fact from the public. He and the rest of the team are also trying to figure out how the whole pack thing will work. Sundholm is there to help as always, but they all realise this isn’t a solution to their problems they can find in a doctor’s pamphlet. For the most part it’s trial and error.

 

The tradition plane trip poker tournaments take a heavy loss all because no one trusts each other to not cheat with their new found psychic connection. This ends up with a deck of cards being thrown in Geno’s face and several very visceral threats. Conor watches on and tries to referee the games, but he’s not very good. He hopes that last thing Bones said about gutting Kuni with a plastic fork wasn’t serious.

 

In other places, both obvious and unexpected, the team bond is incredibly useful. The usual struggle of language barriers is lessened and little. The bond doesn’t work like a universal translator, but it can be helpful to get ideas and feelings across when you can read the team mate in front of you perfectly. They became scarily good at charades.

 

Horny and Hags have entire conversations together using only facial expressions. Sometimes when Geno is tired all he has to do is stare at you until you get the drift. It got to the point where Flower and Tanger had a mental conversation turned argument on opposite sides of the arena. Sundholm found all this out and looked into making sure the league wide psychic dampening in their helmets is strong enough. Thankfully, it seems to be working for now.

 

No one can make up their mind if the shared dream thing when they’re sleeping closer together on the road is a good thing or not. It’s cool, but also very weird. Thankfully no one has had any embarrassing dreams yet and its always hilarious to make fun of Sid for just how much he dreams about hockey. He’s then threatened to hold impromptu practices during dreams, but so far he hasn’t carried through.

 

“It’s kind of like Inception.” Dumo nods to himself and when half the team explains they haven't seen Inception, they all get bullied into watching it next plane trip. 

 

Then, when new guys come along they face the new problem of having to hide the werewolf secret again. They try their best, but Conor can’t blame them for slipping up when they do. When the full moon gets closer and the pack is a little more on edge, Conor’s symptoms seem to hit him a little harder this month.

 

“You okay?” Schultzy asks Conor when he hunches over in his stall and breathes deeply to fight off the nausea.

 

“Ah, just that time of the month.” Rusty says on the way past before realising Jake is right there. Half the locker room freezes in panic.

 

“Wow man,” Dumo says slowly. “That’s kind of a sexist joke. Not cool.”

 

“Uh, yeah. Sorry man.” Rusty reaches down to pat Conor, clearly at lost for what to do. “Not cool.” He repeats.

 

Thankfully, Jake seems to buy it or at least doesn’t question this team’s combined weirdness. Under Conor’s watchful eyes he still seems weird. Jake comes in again smelling of blood and he can’t shake it off this time. It’s got to be human blood, he just really hopes its Jake’s own. He’ll never admit it to anyone else, but he did do a little googling to make sure there had been no bloody murders in Pittsburgh lately. It was not his proudest moment.

 

Conor also starts to think Jake must be catching on to this surveillance. He was never loud to begin with, but he’s practically mute whenever Conor is nearby. He avoids his eyes almost guiltily and it only raises his suspicions.

 

In practice the next morning everything falls apart.

 

Conor is working the puck along the boards and Sully calls Jake in to try and intercept him. Jake’s stick reaches forward to poke the puck away but Conor twists his body to block him. He continues to poke at it as Conor twists the other way to try and out skate him. But before he can complete the pivot, his skate gets caught on Jake’s stick. He can't shift his weight off his right side in time and he slips.

 

He flails on the way down and because the stick wasn’t enough he somehow manages to sweep Jake’s skates out from under him and send him crashing down with Conor. The initial fall flat on his back isn’t so bad, but the man landing full bodily on-top of him knocks his breath away.

 

He lies still for a moment sucking air back into his lungs as Jake begins to flail around on top of him and tries to untangle their legs.

 

“Shears I’m so sorry. Shit! Are you alright?” Jake manages to crawl off him, still on his knees. It's the most words Jake has ever said to Conor in one go. 

 

“Uegh.” Conor wheezes. Everyone around them seems to have stopped, clearly feeling the disruption through the psychic link. Conor himself can already sense their worry, so he rolls over onto his stomach and pushes himself back up onto his feet.

 

“M’fine.” He waves off and Jake continues to apologise profusely, to the point where he’s almost shaking. Sid skates over, Sully right behind him.

 

“All good?”

 

“Yeah,” Conor smiles, watching Jake out of the corner of his eye. “Just winded. I’ll skate it off.”

 

“You’re right.” Matt whispers conspiringly after practice.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Guentz. He’s like, avoiding you big time. I didn’t notice at first but when you pointed it out he does seem a little strange. And practice just now…he wasn’t himself.”

 

“You smell anything?”

 

“No, I’m still not you, Shears.” Matt says flatly. “But I think you’re right. We should tell Sid.”

 

“Tell me what?”

 

Conor’s heart plummets when he turns around from their once secret spot down the hall from the gym room. Sid is standing there nonchalantly with his hands in his pockets.

 

“The fuck?”

 

“Sorry.” Sid taps the side of his head above his temple. “I could kind of tell you were talking about me and it felt serious.”

 

Conor inhales through his nose to calm himself as Matt speaks.

 

“Yeah, we think there’s something up with Guentz. He’s acting really strange around Conor.”

 

“And he smells weird.” Conor adds.

 

“He smells…What does he smell like exactly?” Sid and Matt look at Conor, waiting on an answer.

 

“Like….cold.” Conor cringes at how stupid he sounds. “And one day he smelt like blood.”

 

“Maybe he had a nose bleed or something?” Sid frowns.

 

“All I know is something doesn’t feel right.”

 

“You should trust your instincts but,”

 

“I know, this is really weird.”

 

“What do we do?” Matt asks Sid.

 

“Well…” Sid weighs up his options inside his head, Conor frowns as he reads his thoughts. “I know you don’t like this Shears, but it’s not going to get better if we avoid it. We should talk to him.”

 

“No.” Conor says, and everyone sighs in frustration. “No, I mean you’re right. But there’s no 'we' here. I should talk to him.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“I’m the one who noticed this weird shit first. And if it’s the three of us going for him, that could be a little intimidating. If it’s just me, it won’t feel like a confrontation.”

 

“Alright.” Sid sounds impressed by the plan. “If you think you can handle this alone, then alright.”

 

“Please,” Conor puffs. “I can turn into a wolf, I can handle this.”

 

“You got this.” Matt nods, patting him only a little condescendingly on top of his head.

 

Conor spends hours trying to figure out the best way to approach this, but it turns out he doesn’t need to. Before he can formulate a plan, Jake comes to him first.

 

“I think we should talk.” He says, looking down at his feet.

 

“Yeah.” Conor hastily agrees before he can think better of it. He might as well just rip the band aid off now. “We should. Um, I don’t really know how to say this.”

 

“No, you don’t have to explain anything. I get it.”

 

“Get what?” Conor frowns and Jake finally looks up at him.

 

“I know me being on the team is uncomfortable and I’m trying not to get in your way. I really don’t want to make this into a problem, but I can’t change who I am, and this is my best chance to play in the NHL.”

 

“Change who you...what’s going on?” Conor might be a little creeped out by him, but he doesn’t hate him. He doesn’t understand what Jake is saying.

 

“I know you have good reasons to hate me, but I promise I wouldn’t hurt you or the team.”

 

“Huh?” He is clearly missing important something here. “I don’t…Why would I hate you?”

 

Jake is staring at him like it’s obvious. They keep eye contact for a few confusing moments until Jake’s pale face falls into a grimace and his drops his head into his hands.

 

“Oh my god. You don’t know.”

 

“Know what?”

 

Jake lets out a quiet, almost hysterical laugh. “I’m a vampire.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the most part this is unbeta'd lol


	2. Chapter 2

_Okay._ Conor thinks to himself. _Vampires are real. Why is this a surprise? You’re a werewolf, idiot._

 

_A very bad werewolf._

Jake is still looking at him, expecting a response. He’s hunched over in his team hoodie with his mouth pressed into a thin line. Conor wonders if he has fangs. He’s trying to remember back to when he was first bitten, was anything explained to him about other magical beings? Are mermaids real too?

 

“So…” Conor begins, struggling for words. “A vampire. Okay. You drink blood?”

 

 “Yeah. Not like, all the time but enough to keep me going.”

 

_Human blood he drinks human blood oh fucking Christ._

 

“Not always human.” Jake says as if he’s reading Conor’s mind. “Animal blood works too.”

 

“But you’ve had human blood.” Conor says carefully. Are vampires dangerous?

 

“Yes.” He swallows nervously. “But it’s not what you think. I don’t drain people like in movies. I might take a little from a person if they agree to it, but I don’t need huge amounts to survive.”

 

Conor wants to ask what kind of person would agree to getting their blood taken, but he feels that might be rude. Maybe it’s like a blood donor thing.

 

“Doctor Sundholm knows about my condition and has been helping me along, just like what she’s doing with you. Did you really not know I’m a vampire?”

 

“No! Why would I?”

 

“Well, you could smell the blood on me, right?”

 

“Okay listen. I didn’t know vampires were a thing.”

 

“Wow.”

 

“Shut up.” Conor huffs. Now that Jake is talking to him, he’s a little annoyed he knows so much compared to himself. It’s also very confusing. Is this how the rest of the guys felt when they found out about Conor?

 

“Sorry, I guess you haven’t spent a lot of time around other magical people. As soon as I met you I could smell you were a werewolf. I thought you could tell the same and didn’t like me.”

 

“No, you just smelt weird. At first I thought it was just because you were new.”

 

“It was a little weird that, um, did you notice the rest of the team smells a lot like you too?”

 

“Oh. Yeah, about that.” The rest of the conversation turns away from the discovery of the existence of vampires as Conor explains to Jake the pack bond situation.

 

“Holy shit.” Jake says as Conor retells the story from last year. Now it’s his turn at disbelief. “And that other werewolf just kidnapped you?”

 

“Yeah, but it all turned out ok. The Lycanthrope Foundation wanted to look into it, but I don’t know. He’s not gonna come back and cause trouble anymore so why bother.”

 

“And the team took the whole werewolf thing okay?”

 

“They’re fine with it. Some of them still think it’s pretty cool.” Conor pauses and watches the hopeful look on Jake’s face. “I’m sure you could tell them about the vampire thing and they’d be cool about it. It would mean they can stop pretending not to be a pack around you. We all kind of sucked at that.”

 

“I don’t know.” Jake shrugged.

 

“Maybe start with Sid. It’s what I did. He’s surprisingly good at this stuff.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah,” Conor laughed. “He’s a total nerd about it now he’d probably find vampires super interesting.”

 

“Okay.” Jake gives a small smile. “So we’re cool? You don’t have a problem with me?”

 

“No problem.” Conor confirms, but in the back of his mind he wonders if there’s some reason why he should have a problem. Jake seems too happy for Conor to want to bring it up now.

 

 

He gets a very enthusiastic call from Sid that night.

 

“It’s pretty interesting,” Sid says after his initial verbal explosion of excitement. “From what Jake told me it’s kind of like your condition. Modern medicine is really making it easier. He has this special cream that makes it okay for him to go out in daylight. And with regular blood transfusions he can even eat normal food.”

 

“I didn’t even think about that.” Conor hums.

 

“Explains why he’s always bundled up. His skin is like ice.”

 

“Really? I never noticed. Do you think he’s going to tell the guys?”

 

“He’s planning to. Shit, this fucking team. How many other magical things are out there? What’s next, wizards?”

 

“As long as it’s not demons I think it’ll be okay.”

 

 

They don’t run into any demons, but they do end up having to deal with the team which feels on about the same level. Jake wants to tell them all in one go and Sid and Conor are there to back him up, but it doesn’t go smoothly.

 

“Guys.” Jake stands up and addresses the room. “I’m a vampire.”

 

“Nice one Shears, we’re not falling for that.” Flower leans pass Jake to jeer at Conor.

 

“No, it’s true.” Sid steps in.

 

“You even got Sid in on it? That’s a power move, but come on.”

“Oh,” Matt sighs. “So that’s what it was.” Flower turns to his fellow goalie looking betrayed.

 

“Come on, we’ve seen you walk around in the sun. I’m not falling for it.” Tanger says in disbelief.

 

“Well, yeah. I can go outside but it hurts.”

 

“If you vampire, where’s bite mark?” Geno leans forward, game enough to play along.

 

“I wasn’t bitten, I was born a vampire.”

 

Half the room scoffs at that answer, someone mutters “typical” under their breath.

 

“Vampire’s aren’t born.” Tanger rolls his eyes.

 

“Where’s your fangs guentzy?” Scott smirks in a way that even makes Conor roll his eyes. Jake cringes.

 

“You really want to see them? Alright.” Jake reaches his fingers into his mouth, everyone watches on in confusion. He pinches around his human looking canine and pulls. The false cap comes off to reveal an inhuman looking point. Everyone gets a little squeamish looking at it.

 

“Ew.”

 

“Dude, gross.”

 

“First of all, you asked.” Jake says, lisping ever so slightly. “Second of all, how is this any grosser than your falsies?”

 

“We don’t eat people with ours.” Justin says with wide eyes. Everyone is starting to realise this isn’t an elaborate prank.

 

“Oh my god! I don’t eat people!” Jake throws up his hands and Sidney steps in to moderate the impromptu vampire Q&A session.

 

_Yes,_ he can drink human blood.   
_No,_ he hasn’t killed anyone.  
 _Yes,_ A stake to the heart could kill him, but to be fair that could kill any of them.  
 _No,_ he cannot turn into a bat.  
 _No,_ He does not sleep in a coffin, assholes. 

 

“How old are you?”

 

“Twenty-two.”

 

“How long have you been twenty-two, Jake?” Olli whispers, having way too much fun with this.

 

“Okay, listen. I’m not immortal. I could be, if I wanted to but it’s complicated when you’re a born vampire.”

 

“Born…” Phil murmurs before going as white as a sheet. “Oh fuck. You? Your vampire dad coached me?” Conor has a vague recollection of Phil mentioning Jake’s dad was an assistant coach for the Gophers.

 

“Oh no,” Jake smiles, fangs flashing. “My dad is human. My mom’s side are all vampires.”

 

Phil doesn’t look relieved by that. “Little Jake…my stick boy…a vampire.”

 

Bones gives him a consoling pat on the back. While they can’t deny the evidence presented to them, it’s still hard for them to comprehend what Jake is saying is true. Jake, all blonde hair and shy smiles is the least vampiric in nature they could imagine. Sure, he’s pale, but he’s not that pale.

 

“So sunlight burns you real bad?”

 

“Yeah. I have to wear wicked crazy SPF sunscreen.” Jake says. “One time I got sunstroke sitting by an open window.”

 

“Wow man,” Cullen’s eyes flash dangerously. “That sucks.”

 

“No.” Dales cuts in. “That bites.”

 

The locker room erupts in groans. Phil adds vampire jokes to the growing list of Pun-ishable locker room offenses. It does little to stop the tirade of dad jokes.

 

“You’re such a pain in the neck.” Kuni tells Dales and Cullen, already reaching into his wallet to pay the fine. Jake sighs to himself in relief. When the team dads crack out puns, you know everything will be okay.

 

Conor comes up to him a little while later, when everyone else is distracted with a question of his own. It feels naïve of him to ask, but he trusts Jake won’t judge him. He’s seen a lot of movies about vampires, but now he must ask.

 

“So are vampires and werewolves cool with each other?”

 

“Um.” Jake bites at his lip and thinks. At some point he must have put the caps back on his fangs while Conor wasn’t looking. “Sort of. There’s no war or anything going on, but it’s hard to say. Both keep to themselves and don’t really interact with each other. I think you’re the first werewolf I’ve talked to.”

 

“Oh. Okay.” Conor nods. Jake has that same hesitant look on his face he had when he first talked to Conor, like he’s nervous about what Conor will say. He takes a mental note to try and get Jake to chill out more about the whole situation, but that takes time. He still doesn’t entirely get it. From what he can tell, vampires are just as strong as werewolves and Conor is hardly an intimidating figure.

 

He can sense the way Jake’s heart rate spikes even now when Conor is close. Perhaps Jake is lying, but Conor doesn’t want to be the one to call him out on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is such a short dialogue heavy chapter jesus sorry. Pacing wise I just wanted to leave it here and get into more stuff in the next chapter. I googled some truly horrible vampire jokes. They were so bad you have no idea. Jake was Phil’s stick boy when he played for the Golden Gophers and if you haven’t read the story what are you doing https://www.theplayerstribune.com/jake-guentzel-kesselmania-runs-wild/


	3. Chapter 3

The next full moon happens in the middle of a road trip. It’s no big deal by now, it’s happened a couple of times since Conor’s secret came out and like most things surrounding hockey players it’s become part of a routine. They land early that evening in Tampa and are settled into the hotel before Conor changes. Spare keys to his room are given to Sid and the coaching staff, His glasses are safely back in his bag (any other glass items are also put away) and the curtains are drawn close.

 

He shifts easily into his wolf form or, well, as easily as possible. There are no issues as he shakes off the tingling sensation and twinging ache in his joints then goes and curls up on his bed. In the back of his mind a voice pops up.

 

_You good, Conor?_ It’s Sid. He’s insistent on checking up every time.

 

_Yeah._ Conor replies and he feels the team’s relief through the bond come through like a sigh.

 

He really does mean to just lie on his double bed and sleep off the full moon, but a few hours in he gets a psychic message from Tom.

 

_Hey, we’re getting Uber Eats. You want anything?_

_Uh, no?_ Conor shoots back.

 

_There’s a place that does steak a few blocks away. We could probably get you something raw._ Matt drops in. Conor does have to admit a juicy steak would be pretty good right now. He’d only had a light meal on the plane.

 

_Okay. As fresh as you can get without it being weird._

 

_Say no more, fam._

Tom, Scott, Rusty, Matt (and to Conor’s slight surprise Jake) arrive at his room forty-five minutes later with the key card from Sid and a takeaway box that makes Conor’s mouth water. And sure, maybe his tail wags a little too. Tom has the slim cardboard box he cracks open and lets the aromas of meat waft through the room. Conor is impressed how rare of a steak they managed to get.

 

Jake eyes him carefully from the doorway.

 

_Someone tell Guentz he can come in._ Conor passes on, annoyed to have to send his message through another person rather than communicate with a team mate directly.

 

“Shears is telling you to stop loitering in his doorway.” Rusty says, beckoning him in.

 

“You guys can hear him in wolf form too?” Jake enters, still a little hesitant.

 

“Yeah, it’s cool.”

 

_Can you just give me the steak already?_

“What, no please?” Tom teases, holding the box above his head. Conor could probably jump up and grab it.

 

_Come on._

“Not even gonna sit for us Shears?” Rusty jokes. Conor flattens his ears and glares at him. Matt snatches the steak from Tom while he’s too busy laughing and puts it by Conor’s feet.

 

_See? Thank you._ Conor says pointedly at Matt and no one else.

 

“Good boy.” Matt says under his breath, Scott and Tom collapse on the bed laughing. Conor growls a little, chewing at a bite of meat. After that Jake seems relaxed enough by the strange one sided conversation to finally try and talk to Conor.

 

“You’re bigger than I thought you’d be.” Jake says, sitting on the corner of the bed closest to Conor.

 

_Really?_

“He’s not that big compared to that other guy. Freako kidnap guy.”

 

“He’s really just a big lap dog.”

 

Conor barks in indignation. _Guys I swear to god-_

A pillow, or something, gets thrown at the wall from the other room. The muffled voice of Kuni tells them to keep it down.

 

“Sure thing, old man.” Scott shouts back. Kuni seems to be wise enough to not bother rising to the bait, but it’s a certainty they’ll pay for that comment later.

 

“You’re eyes change colour? Why?” Jake asks when Conor is done eating. It doesn’t seem to matter much seeing as he can’t talk either way.

 

_Wolfs don’t really have blue eyes, I don’t think. It would look weird._

“Huskies do.” Rusty points out.

 

_For the last time. I am not a dog. I’m a wolf and I am capable of killing all of you._

“Have fun explaining that one to Sully.”

 

_Well, do your eyes change?_ Conor says, back to Jake. Matt translates for him.

 

“They do, actually. When I feed they go red for a bit.”

 

“Dude, that’s creepy!”

 

Jake sighs.

 

“No, like, in a cool way!”

 

“What does blood taste like?”

 

“It depends.” Jake says. “It can change from person to person, your blood type, iron levels and whatever. Each person is a little different.”

 

They all sit on that thought for a little bit, reminded of the fact they are all just sacks of meat. Sacks of meat that can lace up skates every other night but all the same they’re vulnerable. They’re food. It’s easy to understand why vampires and werewolves stay secret. No one likes to be reminded by another person how weak they are.

 

 

 

They win in Tampa and fly home straight after. On the plane that night they get onto the subject of party tricks. Flower boasts he can tie a cherry stem with his tongue, and Olli can fold napkins into swans. Matt juggles salt shakers, but no one can agree whether juggling counts or not. Then Jake pipes up that he has a trick to show them.

 

“I’ll need a volunteer.” Jake says and everyone murmurs in excitement. Scotty volunteers and lets Jake move him around so he’s standing about a foot away from him. “Okay, now look me in the eyes.”

 

Scott squares up and follows the instruction. The two stand close together for a minute, staring at each other. Scott blinks once, twice, then stops blinking all together. His pupils grow huge until there’s only a tiny ring of blue. Jake steps away and smiles at everyone watching on. Scott stays staring at where Jake was and not moving a muscle.

 

“Huh?” Someone in front of Conor asks and Jake shrugs.

 

“Scotty, what’s going on?”

 

Scott doesn’t reply, still frozen in place. Horny reaches over and pokes him. Nothing.

 

“The fuck, Guentz?”

 

Jake walks back over and snaps his fingers in front of Scott’s face. He blinks again and slumps forward.

 

“Woah.” Scott says with a laugh. “That was weird.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“I was staring at Guentz and then…I think I fell asleep? Or I was dreaming or something.”

 

“He hypnotised you.” Sid says slowly, eyes wide. “Vampires can do that?”

 

Everyone looks at Jake.

 

“I mean, _technically_ it’s hypnosis. All I do is put people in a trance. I can’t make people do anything. They just stand there.”

 

“Oh, yeah.” Phil shrugs. “Can’t you also do that with chickens?”

 

“Basically, the same thing but with people.”

 

A few more guys immediately insist they must try it. Dumo ends up having to hunch over a lot to be at eye level with Jake, which is a hilarious sight to behold. It’s even funnier when they throw balls of paper at his hypnotised head and he doesn’t even flinch. Sid has to physically restrain flower armed with a sharpie from drawing a dick on his face.

 

Shultzy is next and he slips into a trance after only a few seconds. After that Horny takes almost a full two minutes for Jake to hypnotise him.

 

“It works better on some people than others.” Jake shrugs as Hags waves his hands in front of Horny’s face. “And it doesn’t last long either. A few minutes at most.”

 

“I think this is the stillest he’s ever been.” Hags says in awe.

 

“You should try it, Shearsy.” Scott tells him. “It’s cool. Kind of feels like you’re sleep walking except you don’t move.”

 

“Oh, no. We can’t do that.” Jake says quickly. “This trick only works on humans. Not werewolves.”

 

“Gah.” He huffs, but leaves it at that. Conor isn’t sure he wants to be hypnotised anyway.

 

 

They have a very optional practice the next morning, and most of them don’t attend. Conor’s glad for the day off and he spends and embarrassing majority of it in bed. They next day to goes to the practice rink well rested and he notices yet another change in the air. It smells of blood again when he walks in and Jake is already there. He stares a moment too long at him when he enters the room, and spends the rest of the morning trying not to look unnerved about it.

 

It’s weird that he can smell the blood on him, it’s weirder that Jake knows he can smell the blood. He pins it down as just something he’ll have to get used to.

 

Jake looks well rested too, which clearly has less to do with a good night’s sleep. His cheeks are looking a little pinker and his eyes shine a little brighter. He’s always been a bundle of energy out on the ice, but today he seems faster than usual.

 

“So, you uh,” Conor eloquently says to him between drills. He makes a perfunctory gesture with his hand on his neck which makes Jake laugh.

 

“Yeah.” He says simply. “I got a transfusion yesterday.”

 

“Oh.”

 

_So, none of the whole fangs and biting…thing._

“It’s cleaner that the more traditional way. It’s also kind of awkward finding volunteers that would let me, you know. There’s no vampire tinder.”

 

“Hey, vampire tinder. Now that’s an idea.” Conor jokes. Maybe it’s the extra blood in his system, but Jake blushes. A couple of the guys have made friendly ribs about Jake’s dating life. A lot of agonising Twilight references. There’s also a discussion on people who would be super into the vampire thing, but that only made Jake cringe harder. Conor understands. For as many people who are turned off by werewolves, there are also those who are into it way too much.

 

They don’t get a chance to talk the rest of practice, Sully making sure they’re working at 110%. They all shuffle off the ice afterwards exhausted and aching in a good way. Conor is looking forward to cooling off and downing several litres of water when he notices Sundholm is waiting for him in the hallway. She looks like she means business and Conor knows by now there’s no point avoiding what she wants to say. He waddles over to her, still in his skates.

 

“Sorry to drop all this on you now,” She sighs. “I wasn’t given any warning either. There’s a member from the Lycanthrope Foundation here to see you. They have some follow up questions about the incident last year.”

 

Sundholm doesn’t look impressed and Conor feels much the same. They’d filed a report when it first happened and Conor was happy to let that be the end of it. The Lycanthrope foundation hadn’t sent a word to him in months and now they want to talk to him? He’s tired, but he supposes this is enough to get him out of media duties for the day.

 

He rushes through showering and getting changed as much as he can, and meets back at Sundholm’s little rink-side office in his sweats and team hoodie. There’s a woman waiting for him there. Tall and stone faced and smelling undoubtedly like a werewolf. She nods at him, gripping the file in her hand.

 

“Thank you for agreeing to see me on short notice. I’m Meryl, I’m an investigator for the Lycanthrope Foundation. I specialise in tracking down rogue werewolves.”

 

“Okay.” Conor says flatly, shaking her hand. “What do you want from me?”

 

“You encountered a rogue werewolf going by the name of Damien last year, am I correct?” She says tersely.

 

“Well, yeah. You guys still haven’t found him?”

 

“Lycanthropes can be difficult to track if they do not wish to be found.” Meryl bristles. “I’m here to follow up and ask if you have any additional information.”

 

“I told you guys everything I knew last time.” Conor looks to Sundholm for confirmation, who nods.

 

“I remember the report well. Your pack provided very detailed accounts. Is there any chance one of them would mind talking with me as well?”

 

“You’d have to ask them.” Conor shrugged.

 

“Alright. I just thought seeing as they were your _pack._ ” She says, and Conor doesn’t like the say she emphasises pack. He’s knows a human-werewolf pack bond is a rare and unusual situation, but he hates the idea of him being a novelty to others. He doesn’t want to get his team involved with other prying werewolves and their judgement.

 

“You don’t need my permission. We don’t have an alpha.” Conor stills finds it amusing when people mistake him for the one in charge. If he, in his sophomore season in the NHL, went up to seasoned veterans and tried to call the shots he’d be laughed out of the room. They’d call him cute and ruffle his hair. Well, they still do that anyway.

 

Meryl nods and takes note, seemingly unaware of this. She goes to stand up, clearly realising there’s nothing else she can drag out from Conor when she pauses mid-thought. She sniffs at the air once and frowns.

 

“Is there a vampire in the building?”

 

“Oh yeah, that’s Jake. He’s on the team.” Conor tells her, but she doesn’t find the information soothing. She jumps to her feet and storms across the room before Conor can so much as blink. He suddenly tastes her aggression surging through the air and can smell that Jake must be nearby. Confused and concerned, he follows Meryl as she flings open the door to Sundholm’s office. Jake is standing on the other side and takes a step back.

 

“I just here for Do-” Jake blinks at the sight of the growling werewolf in front of him and swallows thickly. “Oh. I’ll come back later.”

 

Jake turns to leave, but Conor turns to Meryl, mortified in how she’s reacting.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?”

 

“He’s a vampire.” She says.

 

“Yeah, I know. We’re already cool about it.” Conor tells her while she scoffs.

 

“And you just allowed this to happen?” She turns to Sundholm.

 

“I’m going to go.” Jake says, rushing away.

 

“You know, contrary to what some of you at the Foundation believe, vampires and werewolves are capable of getting along.” She says coolly and Conor tries hard not to bang his head against the door frame.

 

“Seriously? This is so fucking stupid.”

 

“You don’t know the history behind it.” Meryl scowls. He thinks for a moment, remembering what Jake had said when he asked about it. Sure there was no outright hatred, but it’s clear from Meryl’s reaction Jake was dancing around the subject, and that there must be some reason behind werewolves and vampires keeping separate from each other.

 

“Yeah, and I don’t really care. I’m here to play hockey, not get into some magical feud.” Conor says and he’s feeling just about done with this conversation. Meryl goes to argue, but Sundholm intervenes.

 

“Any further questions you can ask me. I don’t think Conor has anything more he’d like to say.”

 

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.” He nods to Meryl and gives an appreciative smile to Doctor Sundholm before ducking out of the office.

 

He stands in the empty hallway for a moment and wonders where to go next. He can still smell the lingering scent of Jake in the air and he couldn’t have gotten far by now. He’s still feeling heated from the ordeal with Meryl, but the least he could do is walk it off and try and find Jake. He owes him at least one apology and maybe in turn he can get a few explanations.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's something. Jake can now hypnotise people like chickens, because that was too funny to me for him not to do. 
> 
> And seriously, what /is/ going on between werewolves and vampires? Did Conor not pay enough attention in werewolf class? Vote below:
> 
> (probably)   
> (most definitely)   
> (there was werewolf class? that was optional right?)


	4. Chapter 4

Jake isn’t hard to track down, due to his scent and the fact he hasn’t gone far. Conor finds him back in now empty the locker room, grabbing his bag and looking ready to leave.

 

“Hey. You don’t want to see Sundholm?”

 

Jake looks up, surprised by Conor’s sudden appearance.

 

“No, it’s fine. I’m just going back to the hotel now.” He deflects away Conor’s concern which only makes him more determined to get to the point.

 

“I’m sorry about the way she treated you. That wasn’t. I tried to tell her we were fine.”

 

“You don’t have to apologise. I should be the one apologising.”

 

“For what? You haven’t done anything!” Conor watches Jake’s down trodden sigh.

 

“It doesn’t matter.”

 

“Look,” He grabs a hold of Jake’s arm before he can walk away. No more avoiding. “When I was bitten, I was still a kid. No one told me anything because they didn’t think I’d survive. So, I said fuck them, and I did what I had to do to make it here alone. Hockey first, werewolf shit second. Whatever is going on between werewolves and vampires, I don’t give a shit unless it affects us. If we clear the air here and now, I promise it won’t change anything.”

 

“That’s a lot to promise.” Jake says softly, looking Conor in the eye. Unlike almost everyone else on the team, he doesn’t have to look (or even bend) down to do it.

 

“Are all vampires this over dramatic?”

 

“Pretty much.” Jake smiles. “You should see my cousins. Okay, if no one else bothered to tell you then I will.”

 

“Alright.” Conor sighs in relief. _Finally._ He thinks. “Why don’t I drive you back to your place?”

 

Jake offers to give him the address but Conor already knows it. It’s the same hotel he stayed in when he was first called up. They pack their gear into Conor’s boot and buckle into the front seats. Conor wonders if they should stop to get coffee somewhere before this apparently serious talk, but Jake says he isn’t thirsty. He had just drank yesterday after all.

 

“Where to begin?” Jake hums, and taps his hands along the dashboard in a way that Conor finds a little annoying. He’s a near constant fidgeter, but now doesn’t seem to be the time to mention it. He lets Jake take his time figuring out what to say. “It’s not a nice story.”

 

“I figured.”

 

“It doesn’t really put vampires in a good light.”

 

“Well at least that way I know you’re not sugar coating it.”

 

“Alright. You should know there are two types of vampires. Born and Bitten. Bitten Vampires are rare these days, they’re incredibly tough to kill and are probably what you’d think a pure vampire is like. Born vampires are like me, where it’s more like an affliction than a super power. We find it easy to latch onto human lives and have short, normal lifespans. Bitten vampires can only be killed by a few things. Holy water, stakes, stuff like that, but also werewolves. So you can imagine old school bitten vampires weren’t fans of you guys.”

 

“Sure.” Conor snorts.

 

“Werewolves got like, really good at fighting vampires for a long time up until a few centuries ago when they discovered something. Vampires could drink werewolf blood and it would give them all these crazy side effects. They were stronger, their senses were sharper, but worst of all it made a vampire feel closer to being human. They could go out and feel sunlight without worry of being burned. The blood was addictive, right down to the taste. I’ve never tried it.” Jake adds hurriedly.

 

“Okay.”

 

“The effects didn’t last long, and trying to bleed a werewolf was risky business. So they had to be smart about it. They stole the alphas at first to try and lure the rest of the pack, but an alpha would rather die than put their pack in danger, so they had to come up with something else. They’d prey on the weakest in the pack. The werewolves they could take down easily, but also the ones with the strongest pack bonds. They could put these captured ones in a trance long enough to lure the rest of the pack in. Then they’d cage them up and farm them for blood.”

 

Conor grips the steering wheel. He’s only a few blocks away from the hotel but he considers just pulling over now.

 

“So vampires can hypnotise werewolves?”

 

“Yeah, sorry. I just, it felt wrong to try it on you and I had to have some excuse.” Jake ducks his head. “I-this was a long time ago. Before I was born. My mom’s family used to.” He looks pained to go on, but Conor lets him. “I’m sorry.”

 

“What happened next?”

 

“Born vampires came along, and a lot of them had stronger ties to humanity. They did what they could to free werewolves and take away the power that Bitten vampires held. It worked, werewolves founded the Lycanthrope Foundation to protect themselves and we vampires kept away.”

 

“Well.” Conor says, not looking over at Jake in the passenger seat. “I guess that’s a lot.”

 

“Yeah.” Jake says flatly. “Sorry.”

 

“Don’t be.” He shrugs. “You didn’t do anything, and I wasn’t there. I appreciate you telling me but don’t sweat it. We still got hockey to play, yeah?”

 

“Yeah.” He smiles and bumps his fist against Conor’s.

 

Unsurprising to himself, Conor doesn’t dwell much on what Jake said. He doesn’t really have the time between their gruelling schedule to wonder about hundreds of years of secret history. The only real difference Conor notices is in himself. Now that Jake is more comfortable around the team, and now that Conor has gotten used to his strange new scent, it’s easy to take a step back and appreciate Jake’s newly forged place in the room.

 

“Fucking cheater!” Phil spits, throwing down his cards as Jake turns over a royal flush.

 

“How could I possibly cheat when you all read each other’s minds?” Jake grins as the rest of the table throws cards in his face.

 

“He’s counting cards.” Horny says just to urge Phil’s accusations on.

 

“I’ll never tell.” He says and immediately gets himself banned from the plane’s only poker table.

 

Jake seems content enough to rest on his laurels, sitting a couple rows back from Conor. He watches from the dim light of Dumo’s laptop as Jake pulls an eye mask over himself. It’s purple and fuzzy, something he was dared into buying when their flight got delayed in Columbus. He kept them anyway, and although vampires rarely sleep he seems tired enough to doze until landing.

 

Conor can’t seem to fall asleep. It’s still a few nights off from the full moon, but he’s getting restless. Any stray beam of moonlight sets his pulsing jumping. He doesn’t fall asleep until 2 am back in his own bed. It takes all his blackout curtains and a pile of blankets to fall into a restless sleep.

 

He’s dreaming that he’s out on the ice. The stands are empty, but all the lights are shining down on him as he goes through his pre-game warm up. He takes a lap around the boards and as he skates around towards the goal line he hears laughter.

 

Someone is rolling along the glass behind the goal. He stops and turns to look at Conor, out of breath. Jake is smiling wide enough for him to notice his fangs aren’t capped. They rest gently against his lower lip as his smile twists unevenly towards his left side. His eyes crinkle as he skates over and gently shoves at Conor, who shoves right back. He keeps smiling and its impossible for Conor to look away.

 

He wakes to the phantom feeling of someone gently checking him into the boards. He drags himself out of bed and gets ready to go to practice.  

 

He’s there a little early, enough time for him to stew over his morning coffee and will himself into staying awake. It’s at least half an hour before the rest of the team should start showing up, and Conor isn’t expecting for Geno to be here. He’s not usually known for being early, but he sits down next to Conor with a steaming mug of tea.

 

“You sleep okay?” Geno asks him and sets down his mug.

 

“I guess. Why?”

 

Geno shrugs, looking away.

 

“Why?” Conor presses on in suspicion.

 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to but accidentally went in your dream.”

 

“Oh, shit.” Conor must have woken him up early with his weird dreams about Jake. Conor feels himself blush. “It wasn’t-Was anyone else?”

 

“Just me.”

 

“I don’t know why I had that. Sorry.”

 

“Shears, come on,” Geno reassures him. “All okay! I won’t tell anyone.”

 

“Thanks.” Conor isn’t certain that many secrets can be kept inside the pack.

 

“Guetz is nice. Good guy.” He says slowly, taking measured sips of tea.

 

“Oh god. No. It’s not like that.” His face must be burning by now. In a million years Conor never expected to have a conversation like this with Evgeni Malkin.

 

“Nice smile. Always happy.”

 

“Shut up.  Please.”

 

“Okay, Okay. Just saying. I’ll go.” Geno smiles, way too cheerful for someone not a morning person and leaves Conor alone to agonise over what he’s said. Really, what does Geno know about anything? He’s just teasing him.

 

Of course, he trips up with Jake again in practice this time losing and edge and faceplanting right in front of him. Jake reaches out to try and stop him from falling, but fails miserably and slips over too. Geno leads a small group who skate by to pointedly laugh at them, and if it wasn’t for the severe difference in height and weight Conor would at least try to fight him.

 

“How did you even manage that one?” Jake helps him back up onto his feet and brushes chips off ice of his shoulders.

 

“Jesus. I’m having Dana put both of you in bubble wrap.” Sully sighs.

 

Conor frowns down at the pair of skates that betrayed him and wonders if he should get them sharpened again.

 

“Nice trip.” Geno tells him later, swatting his leg with the blade of his stick. Conor swats back with a little more force than what would be considered friendly. He deserves it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh I know this chapter is shorter and took a while but idk I had some shitty writer's block for what ever reason! More coming soon hopefully :)


	5. Chapter 5

 

“Who the fuck has Taylor Swift stuck in their head?” Flower grumbles one morning. Everyone looks around, now aware of the muffled sound of pop music being broadcast in the back of their minds.

 

“It was on the radio when I drove in-” Kuni says guiltily.

 

“Now I can’t stop hearing it.” Hags grimaces.

 

“You just gotta block it out.” Matt sighs. “Focus on imagining a wall,”

 

“Alright, Sundholm.” Hags grumbles back, but he does it anyway.

 

“Come on guys, just gotta _shake it off.”_ Jake laughs, not envying their position. Conor knows it’s hard for him at times to not feel the same psychic link they do, but he has his own advantages. Jake seems comfortable around them all despite the pack bond that a vampire can never be a part of. He’s not one to pass up the opportunity to laugh at their minor conveniences either.

 

Sundholm has been giving them a lot of tips about blocking out the pack bond to help with privacy. It involves a lot of meditation and mindfulness, which meant a fair share of annoyance when the goalies picked it up quicker than everyone else. Flower still insists he doesn’t meditate, but he can turn on and off the pack bond like a switch in his head.

 

Conor has started really paying attention to Sundholm’s advice as the dreams keep coming, each one increasingly more vivid and confusing than the other. He’s paranoid about blocking himself off from the pack while he’s sleeping. If any of his dreams do leak through, no one mentions it.

 

He’s still going over last night’s dream in his head, trying to make sense of it. Most of the details are foggy, but he remembers the feeling lying flat on his back and the phantom pain shooting through neck, just above the scar on his shoulder where he was bitten. It took him a fraction of a second to wake up from it, but his muscles had already tensed all the way up to the base of his skull. A long hot shower loosened him up again, but he couldn’t stop rubbing drowsily at the side of his neck. It wasn’t like him, for the most part the scar tissue meant there he didn’t have much feeling in that area.

 

He’s startled out of gently prodding the knots in his shoulder by the microwave beeping in the players’ kitchen. Jake takes out the plastic travel mug, but Conor can smell that it’s not a warm cup of coffee inside.

 

“Is that?” Sid peaks over his muesli.

 

“Uh, yeah.” Jake says, turning away to take a sip.

 

“Human?”

 

He nods, biting on his lower lip. “It’s diluted down a bit,”

 

A couple of the guys see this as an invitation to come closer and snoop over Jake’s shoulder. Olli takes a peak under the lid of the mug and steps away.

 

“Still gross.”

 

“Whose is it?” Schultzy asks.

 

“A private human donor. We dilute the stuff down so more actually goes to people who need it.”

 

“Man, modern vampires are lame.” Phil says, stealing a spoonful of muesli from Sid.

 

“Hey!”

 

“Where’s all the hardcore stuff? Biting people and satanic rituals, Jake-y!”

 

“I’ve bitten people.” Jake grumbles. They ‘ooh’ in response. “Friends in college, not to turn them just for the blood if they were okay with it. No satanic rituals, you don’t ever fuck with demons.”

 

“But that’s how we traded for you, right?” Sid smiles at Phil who gives him the finger and takes another bite of muesli.

 

Perhaps it’s the tirade of dreams wearing down his resolve, but the pain in his neck and the smell of Jake drinking blood makes Conor finally reach his realisation. Had last night he dreamt about Jake biting him? Conor isn’t completely naïve. He knows he dreams about Jake a lot, even if he doesn’t want to think about why. If Jake laughs too loudly at a bad joke he heard during the day, Conor will hear it for hours when he sleeps. Since the start, he kept an eye on Jake out of confusion and then suspicion, but even now that they’re friends he keeps watching. He’s not sure what he’s looking for yet.

 

“Do you miss biting people?” Conor asks bluntly afterwards when they’re away from the rest of the team.

 

“I guess.” Jake shrugs. “I’m just about out of human blood, so I’ll have to drink animal blood soon, which is kind of gross.”

 

“And you’d just need a little bit of blood, right?”

 

“Right.” Jake frowns in suspicion.

 

“Okay. So bite me.”

 

“Conor.”

 

“What?”

 

“I can’t do that! You’re a werewolf, that would be-”

 

“Be what? You said yourself werewolf blood is good. You don’t want to try?”

 

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

“Please.” He scoffs with a smile. “You don’t need much, right?”

 

“What if I get addicted?” Jake says nervously, and Conor’s heart thuds.

 

“You’d be careful. I want to help you.”

 

“You trust me?”

 

“Yeah, man. Of course.”

 

 

 

 

They leave the next day for a road game and have that night alone in their hotel rooms. Neither wants to waste time, so they agree to try it sooner rather than later.

 

“So, how are we doing this?” Conor asks, sitting cross legged on his hotel bed. “Do you bite my neck or-?”

 

“Might leave a mark.” Jake scrunches up his noise and thinks. “It’s not the cleanest way either. Better to try it with a decent vein in your arm. Are you sure you want to do this?”

 

“Yeah. I’m sure. It’s just like drawing blood for tests, right?”

 

Jake nods vigorously and jumps into a rapid explanation.

 

“Right yeah. There’s the median cubal vein in the crease of your elbow,” Jake pauses, and speaks slower. “Sorry, I know this is probably weird. I promise I won’t hurt you. I won’t even take that much blood either, less than a blood test.”

 

“I know.” Conor smiles. “It’s okay, I trust you. You got this, right?”

 

“Right.” Jake smiles wide enough to bare his teeth, something he never does unless he’s really happy. Conor pulls off his hoodie to reveal an old grey t-shirt underneath. Whatever was screen-printed on it had faded away a long time ago. The material looks worn but soft.

 

He holds out his left arm and studies it carefully.

 

“So you just?” Conor mimes his two fingers curled up fang shaped jabbing into his arm.

 

Jake nods, and shuffles closer to Conor’s side, taking his upheld arm. The skin is unbelievably warm, Jake had forgotten just how hot werewolves run. He breathes shallowly through his nose, taking in the slight scent of salt clinging to his skin. He can hear the faint yet steady beat of Conor’s pulse.

 

At a quick glance, he sees Conor looking down at him through his long eyelashes. He gives him a small reassuring nod. Jake opens his mouth and leans in. Bared fangs hover millimetres away from the crease of his elbow.

 

“Okay.” Conor says quietly, and inhales.

 

Jake sinks in on the exhale. He’s so careful not to go deep, only breaking the skin like he’s done all the other times. But this time, as the blood blooms against his tongue it tastes completely different. It fizzes up and Jakes laps away at it. He can’t help but moan at the strange spicy sweet taste. He swallows and pulls away.

 

It was only a mouthful, but the effect hits him immediately. There’s a warmth radiating though him that he’s never felt before. The dizzying high in his head breaks into startling clarity. He’s both calm and buzzing with adrenaline. Maybe he’s just imagining things, but the colours all around him seem brighter. He can’t explain it other than in the way his heart thuds louder than he’s ever heard it, beating strong enough to remind him he’s alive. Not undead, truly alive. It’s pure bliss, but he shakes himself free of it after a few seconds to return his focus on Conor.

 

“So, how’d I taste?” He looks a little pale, but he’s smiling.

 

 _Amazing,_ Jake wants to say but doesn’t. He reaches over for the box of tissues and starts to apply pressure to the small cut.

 

“You feel okay?” Jake asks instead. 

 

“Yeah. There’s band-aids around in my bag somewhere. Do we need to clean it or anything?”

 

“Yeah, just bandage it up it should be fine. I wouldn’t try cleaning it um,” Jake tries to think of the best way say this. “My saliva is a natural congealer.”

 

Conor lets out a burst of laughter.

 

“You have magic spit?”

 

“No.” Jake gets a little defensive at Conor’s teasing. He slips off the bed to go grab the band aids Conor mentioned.

 

Conor is a good and quiet patient after that. He lets Jake patch up the bite with no fuss. He looks around for spilled blood to clean up, but is proud to find none. The same can’t be said for his own face, when Conor takes a damp wash cloth from him and wipes at the corners of his mouth. Once he’s satisfied, Conor sinks back into the pillows. Lethargy is common afterwards, or so Jake has found.

 

Jake makes a move to leave Conor to his nap in peace, but is grabbed by his shirt before he can shuffle off the bed.

 

“You don’t have to go.” He murmurs.

 

“I don’t want to disturb,”

 

“You’re warm.” Conor says, and Jake is surprised to learn that it’s true. Vampires are usually cool to touch, but werewolf blood has that effect. In contrast, Conor’s skin doesn’t have the same heat to it that it did minutes ago. Jake decides not to question it as Conor pulls him down beside him. Jake isn’t tired, but he lies down all the same. Conor hums happily, hand still curling into a first on Jake’s chest. Maybe he’s a little more out of it that Jake anticipated, but there’s no harm in staying close.

 

Conor wakes up a little while later, when Jake has moved off the bed. He looks over to find a glass next to a full jug of water on the bed side table. Conor reaches for it happy to relieve his dry mouth. He downs half the jug before he rubs the sleep out of his eyes and looks around the room properly. The bedside lamp is on, the only other source of light is coming from the front door left ajar.

 

Jake slides back through the open door with his phone in his hand.

 

“Sorry, didn’t want to wake you with a call. You hungry?”

 

Conor nods, realising now just how hungry he is. They order room service, which Conor devours while Jake flicks through TV channels, sitting back on the bed.

 

“I didn’t really thank you before.” Jake says between ad breaks.

 

“It’s all good. It was interesting.”

 

“Yeah.” Jake is down from his high now, but there’s still a slight tingling sensation in his body. “I should let you get some more sleep.”

 

“You can stay if you like.”

 

Jake looks over at Conor, who keeps his eyes steadily on the TV screen.

 

“I’m not really- it’s fine. The effects have worn off me now. You probably don’t want to sleep next to a lump of ice.” Jake humours, even if it’s true. He’s never held it against anyone for finding how cold his skin naturally is off putting.

 

“Cold can be nice too.” Conor flushes. “I know it’s weird but I honestly don’t mind. I usually get too warm when I sleep under the covers anyway. Something cool nearby could be nice.”

 

Jake thinks on that. Werewolf biology means a searing metabolism. Jake has the complete opposite problem, but perhaps they share a solution?

 

Jake slips back into the bed. Conor switches off the bedside lamp and settles down again. Jake hadn’t slept before Conor woke, but he is tired now. Vampires don’t need sleep, but sometimes it’s nice. At the very least he can close his eyes for a couple of hours and let his mind wonder. He drifts onto the subject of Conor.

 

“Hey,” he says softly in case he’s already asleep.

 

“Yeah?” Conor mumbles back.

 

“Werewolves are allergic to silver. How did you lift the cup?”

 

“Very Carefully.”

 

Jake smiles at that.

 

“Did it hurt?”

 

“Nah.”

 

Jake can’t imagine that answer being entirely truthful, but it doesn’t matter. Maybe it did hurt, but Jake can tell that for Conor it was more than worth it.

 

“It’s weird, huh?”

 

“What is?” Jake asks.

 

“Vampire and a werewolf on the same NHL team. What are the chances?”

 

“Don’t know, but I’d say we’re pretty lucky.”

 

Conor still isn’t used to being lucky. He’s always preferred hard work and a just reward. But maybe he can be lucky and have earned this too.

 

“Yeah, I like that.” He rolls over and falls asleep easily. Jake falls asleep too, a few minutes later.

 

 

Jake wakes up the next morning with an aching sensation in the back of his head. He winces and rolls over away from where Conor is curled up next to him, head tucked into Jake’s shoulder. The movement is enough to rouse Conor. Jake opens his eyes, which makes it worse. He groans and buries his head into the pillow. Is this some strange side effect to werewolf blood he didn’t know about?

 

“You okay?” Conor asks.

 

“Yeah, just a headache.” There’s a sudden throb of pain and Jake covers his eyes.

 

 _Ow._ He thinks. _Fuck._

 

What Jake isn’t expecting is for something to think back at him.

 

_Ugh, keep it down. I’m trying to sleep._

 

Jake freezes.

 

“What the fuck?” he says out loud this time. Conor frowns at him.

 

 _Huh?_ The voice thinks. It’s a man’s voice, and it’s oddly familiar.

 

_What the fuck is going on-_

 

_Wait, who is this?_

 

The like a slap to the face it dawns on him. That’s Rusty’s voice.

 

_Rusty?_

 

_…Jake?_

 

Conor shakes him gently and asks him again if he’s alright.

 

_JAKE OH MY GOD YOU CAN HEAR ME DOES THIS MEAN- WAIT HOLD ON I’M COMING OVER WHAT’S YOUR ROOM NUMBER-_

 

“Oh fuck.” Jake says and collapses back down on the bed.

 

_-NEVERMIND I’LL FIGURE IT OUT DUDE OH SHIT THAT’S SO COOL DOES SHEARS KNOW YET? HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?_

 

“Shut up.” Jake grumbles, hoping for Rusty to just quiet down the voice ringing inside his head.

 

“I didn’t say anything.” Conor huffs.

 

“No, not you. Rusty.”

 

“Rusty?” Conor asks, and then there is a knock on the door. Conor opens it and low and behold, Bryan Rust is there poking his head into the room.

 

“Shears! How cool is this? Did Jake already tell you?” He grins, sliding into the room.

 

“Tell me what?” Conor looks over at Jake, still in the bed, but he already has a suspicion.

 

“I think I pack bonded.” Jake says, rubbing his head again.

 

“That’s not possible, is it?”Conor gets him some asprin and Rusty sits down on the side of the bed, happy as ever. After swallowing the pills his headache slowly subsides. Once the pain is dulled Jake begins to feel the difference. It’s like there’s a thread leading out of his mind, tangled in a box with a dozen other threads. Every now and then they pulse faintly. He describes the sensation to the Rusty and Conor, who nod along.

 

“I’m surprised you noticed it so quickly. It took us ages.” Conor says. Jake shrugs.

 

“I didn’t know vampires could bond with a pack. How did you do it?” Rusty asks. He looks at both Jake and Conor, sitting in a room with one bed. Having just woken up. Together. Rusty raises his eyebrows.

 

“Oh. Uh.” He hops up off the bed. “I shouldn’t have just barged in like- I’ll leave you two to-”

 

“Oh my god. No.” Conor interjects, looking slightly mortified. Jake can feel himself blushing. “We didn’t. No. Jake just took some of my blood and then we crashed.”

 

“You what now?”

 

 Conor rolls up his sleeve to show the covered bite mark.

 

“Oh,” Rusty nods. “Cool.”

 

Jake feels the slight pulses in the back of his head grow stronger. Having the whole team close together in the same hotel makes it easier to notice.

 

“Everyone else is waking up. Do you think they’ll notice?” Conor wonders. 

 

“I mean, probably.” Rusty says. “That okay with you Guentz?”

 

“Sure” Jake shrugs. Rusty pats him on the back and moves to the door.

 

“I’m going down to breakfast then. I’ll leave you guys to it.”

 

They take turns showering and getting ready. Conor changes his bandage, pleased to find it’s already beginning to heal. They both go down to breakfast with the rest of the team already waiting for them. Rusty gives them a thumbs up, which means he’s probably told everyone by now if they hadn’t already figured it out.

 

Scott takes Conor by the chin and begins to inspect his neck.

 

“What, no love bites?” He jokes and Conor swats his hand away. Conor looks more annoyed than flustered, which is more than Jake can say for himself by his team mate’s assumptions.

 

“He bit my _arm,_ genius.” Conor rubs at the inside of his elbow.

 

Tom asks “So that’s what got him in the pack?”

 

“I guess so.”

 

“Happy to have you, Guentzy!” Horny pulls him into a hug that looks more like a gentle head lock. Hags starts chanting “One of Us” behind him.

 

“No more cheating in poker!” Phil calls out.

 

“What!” Jake scoffs, eventually freeing himself from Horny. “All you guys do is try read minds to cheat!”

 

“Yeah, but now its level playing field. Free for all.”

 

Jake just shakes his head and pours himself a cup of coffee, but Conor can feel how happy he is through the bond.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's no excuse for the bed sharing here it's 2018 folks lest just do it

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a sequel to my first story about werewolf! Shears that I imagined took place somewhere in the 15/16 season (realistic timelines? Never heard of that never felt that emotion) and this one obvs takes place for the 16/17 season, but I’m not going to go into much strict detail for exactly when because I’m a lazy story teller. From the tags you can probably tell where this is going, here’s to hoping the team shenanigans don’t lead these boys too far astray!


End file.
